


Same Sky

by intoapuddle



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M, Song fic, mentions of grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 23:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18303953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/pseuds/intoapuddle
Summary: "You say we're under the same sky, babeYou're bound to realise, honey, it's not that clear"Dan is going to India for two weeks with his family, leaving him and Phil to navigate the longest time they've spent apart since they first met.





	Same Sky

Legs are tangled together in sheets. Lips meet. Once, twice. The third time, they linger. Phil’s hand splays across Dan’s cheek and Dan’s rests on Phil’s hip bone. They’re waiting for what’s to come.

Phil never thought cuddling up with another person like this would start to feel familiar. He didn’t expect to spend enough time with someone to figure out what they like. Their thighs are intertwined and both sets of their legs stretch long enough for their feet to dangle over the edge of the bed. Dan likes it when Phil rubs his cheek. Dan has learned that Phil likes it when Dan plays with his hair.

Most of all, they like kisses. There’s an abundance of them the moments that they are alone. Dan breathes in deep every time they first kiss. Phil can feel that breath. They’re lying close enough for him to feel how Dan’s stomach expands when it draws in. It’s exhaled through Dan’s mouth as they part to change angles. It feels hot on Phil’s lips. It makes his body tingle in places that he didn’t know could tingle.

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” Dan says.

Day has turned into night. Side by side in bed, both only in their pants. Dan’s hand is wrapped around Phil’s on top of the duvet between them. Phil meets Dan’s searching gaze in spite of fear.

“It’s only a few weeks,” Phil tries.

Dan gets that look - that mildly put upon look that sometimes shakes Phil - but it’s dampened by the soft squeeze of Dan’s hand.

“It’s more than we’ve spent apart since we first met,” Dan says.

Phil thinks about it, and regrets it immediately. Dan moves closer and puts a hand on his chest, his body draped to Phil’s side. Only when Dan touches him does he realise how his heart has started to thunder in his chest and how ragged his breathing has become.

“Your heart’s beating really fast,” Dan comments. 

Phil doesn’t know how to answer that.

“It’s okay,” Dan soothes. “We’ll be okay.”

There’s something mildly satisfied in his voice that mixes with worry. Phil is probably having the correct reaction. He doesn’t want to think about that. He just puts his hand over Dan’s and closes his eyes. Dan mouths at his neck and Phil exhales, hard.

“We’ll still be connected,” Dan mumbles against Phil’s skin. “We’ll still be under the same sky.”

It doesn’t take long before Dan’s hand goes down Phil’s stomach and underneath his pants and wraps around him. Dan grinds against Phil’s side while he jerks him off and kisses his neck.

“We have so much to look forward to,” Dan whispers.

-

Dan says the same reassurances time and time again before he’s gone. 

Phil maybe cries a little bit when Dan has to get on the train back home, but that’s okay. Phil watches his own emotions reflect back to him Dan’s eyes. Phil doesn’t have time to say anyting before Dan turns around quickly and tries not to look back as not to be tempted to stay another day. 

They skype an almost unhealthy amount before February fifth. Phil never wants to leave the screen. Even if they’re not really talking, he wants the reassurance of Dan’s face and Dan’s smile and Dan’s cute dimples even if they’re distorted by a bad connection. They won’t even have this once Dan is in India, so Phil takes what he can get.

“We’re under the same sky,” Dan says again right before they say goodbye on the fifth, two hours past midnight.

The silence after the ended call feels emptier than anything really has since Phil first met Dan in person back in October. He feels a strange nothingness that makes his heart race. 

_We’re under the same sky._

Phil sits up on his bed and looks out at the all enveloping darkness of the sky. It doesn’t bring him comfort. His skin feels itchy with a need to be close. Even when he can see Dan, even when he can touch him, Phil doesn’t feel like they’re in the same world. Much less under the same sky. They’re building a new world together, but the times they have to spend apart makes it take longer for those building blocks to settle.

They are under the same sky, in a literal sense. But to Phil, life doesn’t feel very literal. It’s not that clear. Dan’s going to find that out for himself, too, soon enough. Phil wishes he didn’t have to.

-

_You can go to the East_  
_To find your inner hemisphere._  
_You say we're under the same sky babe,_  
_You're bound to realize, Honey, it's not that clear._

-

It felt like a freight train. That’s what Phil can somehow describe the feeling as, or some likeness to it.

At first it hit him hard. He was in shock, then panic, and then life went on. He still had studies to tend to. He still had relationships to maintain. Life still existed even though one of the people he’d lived with for two years didn’t. 

The freight train came to a full stop. Phil felt absolutely debilitated by the loss. Doubt and guilt and mind numbing fear he hadn’t felt before took hold on his shoulders and pushed him back no matter how hard he tried to move forward.

Eventually, the train started to move. Slowly. As if struggling through a storm on ungreased wheels, Phil took one shaky step after the other until he came out on the other side on top of feet that were steady in a different way from before.

Phil doesn’t remember much of his last year of university. What he does remember is how the entire house felt empty and abandoned for weeks before the pieces of his friends and Phil slowly assembled back into place. The group didn’t look the same as it used to, but at least it turned into some pattern other than a pile of forgotten pieces. Someone could crack a joke and it no longer felt inappropriate. Phil remembers the hugs they shared and the conversations that went to a much different place than they had before the incident.

Other than that, it’s still a blur. Times and memories that fade into one another. Phil’s entire life has felt like a before and after the loss of that person since then. It introduced him to concepts and ideas that he never considered before. 

Phil’s optimism got swayed a bit by that heavy dose of realism. Although his original hopefulness eventually returned, it’s different. Everything is a bit different, still. Not worse and not better, just altered and without that level of excitement he used to feel.

Years later Phil still feels like he can’t really depend on anything to be true any more. Not whether or not tomorrow comes for him. Not who else will be there if Phil is still around.

Phil first felt his and Dan’s age difference when he realised that Dan’s perspective on life hasn’t really been tampered with yet. That only makes Phil feel more addicted to him. He needs some of that innocence and a lot of that wide eyed joy at new opportunities and experiences. When Dan’s around, Phil feels like he can borrow some of it, even if it’s only for moments at a time.

Dan has plans for them. He seems to know full well that he’ll move closer and that they’ll be together for a long time. In the back of Phil’s mind, a small seed of hopefulness has sprouted into a hesitant belief that that may be true. There are still some steps of distance there, though. Dan thinks that when Phil moves to Manchester and Dan enrolls in university, everything will be perfect. To him, the future is a promise land just waiting for Dan to reap every opportunity coming his way.

Phil knows that that’s not true. He spent years thinking that, too. He’s on the other side of a traumatic life event that still stuns him when he thinks back on it. He simply can’t look at the future with rose tinted glasses anymore. 

Nothing is for certain.

It still feels good to hear Dan say those things. Phil can almost touch that steady conviction of a grand future. Phil has told Dan about that time in his life, about the friend that he lost, about the time after. Dan knows that it had a big effect on him, but that he can’t relate to it. Not yet. Phil wishes he could promise Dan that everything he believes about the future is true and that they’ll have everything and more and that any hardships will sail past them easily, but he can’t.

At the same time, Phil’s starting to view the before and after of his life not as the tragedy he encountered a couple years ago, but as the before and after he met Dan.

-

_I'm not your promise land_  
_I'm not your promise one_  
_I'm not your Land of Canaan, sweetheart,_  
_Waiting for you under the sun._

-

Phil keeps busy. He makes sure to hang out with friends he hasn’t paid as much attention to since he met Dan. They’re oddly understanding, given that Phil hasn’t exactly been open about the nature of their relationship, but there’s not much he can do to hide the smile on his face every time his name comes up in conversation.

He plans out videos, and looks at flats in Manchester. None of them are great, and not at all the kind he’s been imagining as his first proper place. Dan keeps encouraging him anyway. If it hadn’t been for Dan, Phil would have probably decided to stay home for longer until he has the money for something better than a small studio that barely has a kitchen.

But Dan wants to study in Manchester. He’s going to move there. The only reason Phil has to stay at this house is for his parents to keep it for just a bit longer, but nowadays his future with Dan looks a lot brighter than the idea of clinging to the past.

It’s a terrifying thought. Phil doesn’t have time to dwell on it when his phone rings, displaying Dan’s name.

Phil’s heart races. He hasn’t heard Dan’s voice in three days. He can’t remember the last time they’d gone that long without speaking.

“Hello?” Phil answers.

“Hi,” Dan says.

The beating of Phil’s heart slows but it still pounds. There’s warmth in Dan’s voice, the type that Phil hasn’t heard from any other person.

“God, I miss you,” Dan sighs just as Phil takes a breath to speak.

It stops him for a moment.

“I miss you,” Phil responds.

He knows that that’s true, but he hasn’t caught his breath yet. Everything feels muddled and strange. He can’t see Dan’s face. He can’t touch him. He’s so far away. This is exactly what Phil’s been waiting for and he can’t think of a single thing to say.

“Are you okay?” Dan asks.

“I don’t know,” Phil sighs. “I’m sorry. I just…”

It feels like Dan is out of reach. He’s so young. He has so much to experience. What if the love of his life is right there in India just waiting to give him the life he’s meant to have? Phil isn’t normally possessive. It makes him feel ugly and wrong to even think that thought. 

“Can you just… tell me what you’ve been doing?” Phil asks.

Phil can hear the smile in Dan’s voice as he responds.

“Of course.”

Phil lies in bed as he listens to Dan’s stories. There’s a ton of them already. There always is. Dan goes off on tangents sometimes but they always lead back to a sensible conclusion. Phil closes his eyes and imagines that Dan is right behind him in bed, his chest to his back and their legs tangled. He imagines he can feel Dan’s breath right in his ear as he speaks. He imagines that Dan tastes of salt now, that his warm skin feels hot, that he might flinch at the hint of teeth he normally asks for in bed.

“Phil?” Dan says.

“Mmh?”

“You sound kind of…”

There’s a pause. Phil can’t wait for it.

“What?”

“Turned on.”

Phil does not know how to respond to that. So he laughs, shifts a bit in bed, feeling his heart speed right back up.

“Is that bad?”

He has no reason to deny it.

“As long as it doesn’t have to do with Adrian getting stuck in the water slide, then no,” Dan chuckles back.

Phil’s face screws up.

“Dan!” he scolds.

“You haven’t really been listening, have you?”

There’s nothing but fondness in Dan’s voice, even when he tries to sound upset.

“Sorry,” Phil says. “I just like hearing your voice.”

“I like hearing your breathing get heavy,” Dan whispers back.

Phil bites down on his lip, letting a hand travel down his stomach. He notices the change in his breathing now that Dan’s mentioned it. How it hitches and goes uneven when he strokes a couple fingers down the length of himself on top of his sweatpants. 

There’s a moment of silence that sounds loud.

“Are you alone?” Phil asks.

“No,” Dan says. “I can be, though.”

“I shouldn’t be holding up your holiday plans,” Phil reasons, suddenly reminded of how much this one phone call costs.

“Doesn’t feel like a holiday without you,” Dan mumbles.

“Cheesy,” Phil grins as his cheeks flush red.

“You love it.”

For all of his sarcasm and eye rolls, Dan is a romantic. Phil can’t take the tension of those words, though. It feels like they mean too much.

There’s another silence, a moment of indecision about where to take the conversation. 

Phil makes the decision.

“So, did Adrian get out of that slide okay?”

After five more minutes of talking they begrudgingly say their goodbyes. The last words spoken between them are “I love you”. Phil smiles to himself as he puts the phone down next to himself in bed and thinks about Dan’s blushing cheeks and the way he bit into his bottom lip right before he said it to Phil for the first time. The memory makes him want to reach for his phone and call Dan again, just to share it with him. To tell him how cute he was and how dorky they were, even if it only was a couple months ago. Time goes by so fast with Dan it seems like much more has passed.

He can’t call Dan. That’s what makes Phil’s heart sting as he stares down at the phone. Dan’s giving him everything he’s capable of giving, and still the high of hearing his voice is quickly diminished by the sobering realisation that that’s all they can have for two more weeks.

-

_I'm lonely tonight, I'm missing you now._  
_I'm wanting your love and you're giving it out._  
_I'm lonely tonight, I'm lonely tonight, I'm lonely tonight._

-

Most of the time the longing is bearable. It’s sweet and sometimes sexy messages sent back and forth. Phil sends most of them, but Dan has a lot more to occupy his time. The sudden lack of Dan in Phil’s life has at least made him become a bit more productive. The tasks he set himself up to do during Dan’s absence have already been finished within the span of one week, and after that he finds himself retreating into what he did with his time before he knew Dan.

In front of his computer, scrolling mindlessly through his twitter feed. He stays up until he passes out. The only little spark of happy he gets is the texts from Dan, and those are few and far between.

Still, bearable. It becomes decidedly not bearable one morning when Phil wakes up to a Dan message that doesn’t spark happy.

There are five missed calls and one message.

 **Dan** : Thanks for answering, I guess.

Phil has had his sound on on his phone since Dan left, in order to not miss a single message or a single call. And yet he slept through five calls and one message, like a bloody idiot. The words on the screen hit him right in the stomach and Phil doesn’t know how to mend it.

 **Phil** : I’m sorry I don’t know how I missed them :( Can you talk now?? Please.

Dan answers almost immediately.

 **Dan** : Can’t now.

Phil doesn’t know if this hurts more than if the message had been ignored.

 **Phil** : I’ll duct tape my phone to my ear so I never miss another one.

Dan doesn’t respond to that one, and Phil realises that this definitely hurts more.

It’s a similar feeling to one he gets when he’s with Dan sometimes. When they’re talking and Phil says something weird and Dan gets a look on his face. When Dan questions him like Phil has done something wrong and Phil feels like he did even though he can’t really pinpoint what it was. There are things they don’t talk about, barriers to get past, but usually they’re followed by touches that stop all those racing thoughts and nasty feelings. They’re just tiny moments, barely worth thinking about.

Now Dan isn’t here, and he isn’t reachable like he usually is even when he’s in Wokingham. They can’t touch or talk and let the moment blow over. All Phil can do is sit and wallow in his misery, thinking up worst case scenarios with no one to stop him from thinking them.

It’s what Phil feels with most people. Like their hearts have to strain if only a little bit to love him. Because he’s strange and guarded, two things that Dan hasn’t noticed. With Dan, everything is different, but those tiny moments and this one makes him feel like maybe he’s been imagining that Dan doesn’t see him the same way that other people usually do.

Dan’s so young. He’s at a moment in time when everything’s changing for him. He’s said so himself. One night on Skype he told Phil that his gap year was meant for changes. 

He wanted to put himself out there, so he started to plan videos for his youtube account. He reached out to people, Phil included. He’s got so much ahead of him and he’s gaining subscribers quickly. Phil might have helped out with the initial exposure, but it’s Dan’s videos that are the real draw-in for viewers. He’s got the humour and look and passion for youtube that’s required to get a real audience of people, independent from his connection to Phil.

It terrifies Phil. Because Dan is in a time of change, and what if that time of change means Phil’s just a person that he’ll entertain for a while before he finds somebody else? Someone that isn’t weird or guarded or scared? What if Dan finds a person he can love without straining himself?

Phil tucks himself away from the rest of the world for the entire day, alone with his thoughts.

-

_Well the meaning’s changed (for what it's worth)_  
_It's just a senseless game_  
_I should think of love, but it's fear_  
_Every time I hear your heart strain_

-

They may have been a bit drunk. They may have been a lot drunk, actually.

Dan was leaning into Phil’s side. His fringe covered his eyes but Phil could feel the giggles against his shoulder. Dan was drunker than him. Or simply giving in to the haze in a way Phil couldn’t do.

He didn’t feel guarded while they were sitting there. He leaned back into Dan, and given the state of the rest of the party guests they weren’t questioned about it. They were all wasted, listening to loud music now that all the drinking games were over. People had to shout to hear one another, but some pairs didn’t have to. Some were clinging to one another and whispering into each other’s ears. Unlikely pairs, that Phil would have raised an eyebrow at if he hadn’t been drunk.

New year’s eve causes feelings of loneliness. That makes for unlikely pairs. Phil’s spent enough New year’s eves alone to know that feeling of desperation.

A tickling whisper in his ear made Phil jump slightly before he settled and listened.

“We should go outside.”

Phil leaned away, out of the heat caused inside their close proximity. Dan’s eyes were watery and unfocused. Lips puffy, sinfully red. It only took Phil a single glance down at them to prompt Dan forward, trying for a kiss.

Phil laughed, heart beating hard as he put a hand on Dan’s chest gently to stop him. 

“Yeah, outside,” Phil said, slurring on the words. “We should go outside.”

They managed to stand on wobbly legs, giggling and leaning on each other’s shoulders, trying fruitlessly to steady themselves. They slipped out the door unnoticed. Phil looked back at Dan’s shining face and felt his heart shatter and tighten at the same time.

They made their ways up the stairs, breaths caught in their throats, and outside on the open roof top. They weren’t alone. Midnight was approaching fast, so a few other couples were huddled together in corners, looking out at the fireworks already exploding in the sky.

Their paces slowed as Phil’s hand slipped inside Dan’s. They made their way to the edge, both tall enough to watch past the fence. Once they stopped, Dan made a small noise in his throat and Phil extended his arm to wrap around his narrow shoulders. Dan practically melted into him.

The air was sobering, but Dan’s presence felt intoxicating.

Phil turned his head down to look at Dan.

“I’ll have that kiss now, please,” he whispered.

Dan didn’t skip a beat. He tilted his chin up immediately and Phil leaned down to lock their lips. It was wet and too hard and it tasted like alcohol. In the cold of the London breeze it felt nothing but completely and utterly right.

Cheers were heard and big fireworks filled the sky. Midnight, Phil presumed. Dan grinned against Phil’s lips before they pulled apart and exchanged their “happy new year”s.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Phil’s head was clearing for every burst of colour filling his vision, contrasting the backdrop of cloudy black.

“I want to end up here,” Dan said eventually.

He wasn’t slurring as much anymore. Phil squeezed Dan’s shoulder.

“Working here, being creative, starting a real life.”

Dan’s words came out dreamy and melodic. Phil felt as though he was reading Dan’s thoughts. As if he was reaching inside a deep and secret desire that Dan didn’t often speak aloud.

“Do you want that too, Phil?” Dan asked, finally meeting his gaze.

“Yes,” Phil said without thinking. “Wherever you are, I want to be.”

Dan’s expression spread into a smile, eyes glistening in that way that makes Phil want to kiss him.

They didn’t have time to solidify the idea into that kiss before the rooftop door slammed open and noise filled the air. Dan pulled away on instinct and Phil did the same. An unknown anger was rising within him, the childish kind he typically only reserves for his brother.

It only accelerated when someone grabbed Dan’s wrist and pulled him into a hug, shouting “happy new year”. Phil stood watching, waiting for Dan’s eyes to lock with his so they could share an eye roll at the drunken demeanor of one of their friends. Instead, Dan shouted the sentiment back and Phil’s stomach churned anxiously.

He looked back at the skyline of the city.

The reminder of anything outside of the two of them, outside of this moment, made Phil feel hopeless. Dan wanted this city. He wanted the promise of success and wealth and creative outlet it inspired. In this moment, Phil realised that all that he wanted was Dan.

But Dan is in a moment in time, only just coming to his own and realising who he is. Phil had swooped right in that process, picked him up and expected to keep him. As Phil watched Dan indulge their friends’ silly jokes and drunk stumbling he wondered if this was temporary. He wondered if this really could be his future. It seemed too good to ever feel real.

Before Phil could fully spiral, Dan was back in his arms and kissing his cheek and asking him to go back to the hotel with him. The thoughts were left unresolved but Phil couldn’t care less. His mind and heart was filled back up with everything Dan, in a place where he dared to hope that this wasn’t part of some glitch and that they were exactly where they were supposed to be, side by side in a bed fit for two.

-

_It's not the fallen man,_  
_It's not the call of time,_  
_It's just the London skyline_  
_Telling me you're not mine_

-

Dan rings back while Phil is alone on the sofa, snacking on crisps and watching a nature channel to fill the silence. His parents have gone to bed but Phil hasn’t been able to, not before he’s heard from Dan.

He jumps at the sound of Dan’s personalised ringtone. Crisps come flying across the sofa. Phil barely notices. He presses the green button and clears his throat.

“Hi!”

His voice is almost inappropriate in its genuine excitement. He has no clue about Dan’s current state, of his feelings towards him. Only a few seconds ago Phil resigned himself to every catastrophic thought he could muster, of a future without Dan, and even he can’t hear it in his own voice now.

“Hello,” Dan says back.

He doesn’t fully match the excitement, but he sounds like he’s holding back a smile.

“I’m sorry,” Phil says, and that’s when he hears the sign of a long day of worry. He’s sure Dan can hear it, too.

“No,” Dan sighs. “No, don’t be.”

He sounds tired. Dan has told Phil about the mental laps he runs some days, how much they exhaust him. Phil never wants to be the cause of them again.

“I am, though,” Phil argues for some reason. “I am sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dan says. “I should be sorry for texting you like that.”

He says it in complete montone. The bit of feeling it exuded before must have been put on. The flatness now seems much more genuine.

“It’s alright. You were disappointed. It was a misunderstanding.”

Phil wants to put it in a box and leave it there. Seal it away like he plans to do with every fear he’s felt during this day of worrying over his future with Dan. Just like he did at New Year’s.

“I think it’s more than that,” Dan mumbles.

It’s almost incoherent, but Phil has become so attuned to the sad Dan-mumbles that he makes it out as if it was said perfectly. Sometimes Phil wishes he wasn’t able to do that.

“What do you mean?”

The fear comes back. It hurts more after the moment of relief.

Dan doesn’t answer.

“Dan?” Phil asks.

He blames the bad connection before he worries about Dan. When there’s another few seconds without a response he’s sure the call has been dropped.

“Dan, can you hear me?” Phil asks, speaking a bit louder just in case.

“Yes,” Dan answers with an edge to his tone.

It’s that edge that Phil hates. The one he can see in his eyes and hear in his voice and feel in the distance between them when Dan is in a mood.

“Sorry,” Phil says immediately, even though he knows how much Dan hates it when he does that.

“I told you not to be,” Dan groans.

He sounds softer. Phil dares a playful giggle.

“I can’t help it,” Phil smiles.

“Well, bloody help it then,” Dan shoots back.

He snorts a giggle after, and Phil joins in. There’s a hesitant moment of shared laughter before they fall silent again. 

“But really,” Phil says, feeling brave, “what did you mean when you said it’s more than that?”

Phil’s not normally one to lean into conflict, rather the opposite. Dan’s the same way, but his thoughts and feelings are too loud to go ignored. Phil’s much better at shielding his discomfort, but now he’s so scared of the response he’s sure Dan notices.

“I don’t know,” Dan says. “I just want to be home with you now. I don’t like it here. Dad’s been snapping at me all week and Adrian’s an asshole.”

Phil hums in response.

“I’m a spoiled brat, whatever,” Dan groans to himself. “I’m in bloody India with my family and all I can do is complain and be mean to you. I fucking hate this.”

His voice increases in volume for every syllable. Phil feels each of them like a punch in the chest.

“You haven’t been mean to me,” Phil assures him. “We had a misunderstanding.”

Silence.

“I miss you so much,” Phil whispers.

“I miss you too,” Dan says back.

Phil sucks in a wet breath.

“I feel like the longer I’m here the more I realise what a terrible person I am,” Dan says. “Like I don’t deserve you.”

The earnestness feels new, but Phil does nothing to brace himself against it. He takes in every word, no matter how much he disagrees.

“Then I don’t deserve you either,” Phil says instead of arguing. “If you’re terrible, I’m awful.”

Dan makes a sound that Phil can’t place.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Dan hiccups. “Not while I’m in full breakdown mode.”

“No can do,” Phil says back with some relief. “That’s my job.”

Dan hums back.

-

_My blood is running dry,_  
_My skin is, my skin is growing thin_  
_For every time you find yourself_  
_You lose a little bit of me, from within._

-

They keep texting incessantly. Phil’s going to be broke by the end of the month but right now he doesn’t care. His brain is in limbo, pulled back and forth between the relief of a good conversation and the painful yearning of silence. They’re approaching the end of Dan’s holiday, and Phil’s meant to be filming a video. Every time he turns on the camera all he can think about is Dan. He’s got five hours on his hands before Dan can talk to him again. He’s bored and he hates feeling like a child next to his parents. There’s not much to get him out of that state of mind without Dan.

He stares into the camera. It’s recording already. He doesn’t feel like being random or telling any stories. All he wants to do is talk to Dan.

So that’s what he decides to do. He stops the recording, deletes the footage, and collects his thoughts. He writes a new script, one that is completely self indulgent, a letter to Dan. Their story. It comes out of him quickly, quicker than any of his scripts have for the entire duration of Dan’s holiday.

He prints the word document, reads it over, and sits down in front of the camera. He presses record and feels his stomach fill with nerves as he speaks.

“Awrf. Hi, Dan. Happy valentines day.”

-

_It's just a raging cycle, why can't we_  
_Bring it all to the end of the line_  
_From inside this existence, sweetheart_  
_Time is not on my side_

-

Phil gets the video together in only a couple hours. Once the first version has been edited, he checks the time. Still an hour and a half before they can talk again. He might as well flesh it out more.

He opens up paint and draws some quick, heartfelt pictures of a few of his favourite moments, the ones he mentioned in the video. He adds the mp3 file of Fireworks from the Final Fantasy soundtrack in the background. It turns into one of his most ambitious videos in a long time, although he’s spent less time on it than he usually does on the easier ones.

Phil uploads it privately to his second channel and emails the link to Dan. He sends a text.

 **Phil** : Find an internet connection somewhere and check your email. I’ve got a surprise for you. Ily <3

It takes an hour after the text was sent before Dan responds. Phil is in bed watching Buffy, phone placed beside him on the mattress within his line of sight for there to be no way of missing Dan’s text. He rushes to open his phone.

 **Dan** : ;____;

The phone buzzes again as Phil revels at the text.

 **Dan** : Phil.

Phil bites into his bottom lip and feels his heart rush with emotion. It feels good.

 **Phil** : Awrf?

 **Dan** : Awrf <333

 **Phil** : Are you gonna call?

 **Dan** : I would but I can’t. I’ve already exceeded my budget for this trip AND I forced dad to lend me his laptop to watch it. He’s well pissed at me now. :(

Phil doesn’t hesitate. He can’t afford it either, but he needs to hear Dan’s voice, right now. He won’t wait another second. He opens Dan’s contact page on his phone, and makes the call.

-

_I'm not your promised land, I'm not your promised one._  
_I'm not your Land of Canaan Sweetheart,_  
_Waiting for you under the sun, I'm lonely tonight_

-

Legs are tangled together in sheets. Lips meet. Once, twice. Each and every kiss lingers. Phil wants to savour every moment, every glimpse, every touch. Dan’s got tan lines and sun bleached hair. He nuzzles into the side of Phil’s neck and scratches his teeth against the skin. Phil arches and grabs at Dan’s shoulders. It’s almost too much.

They have endless amounts of time now. Every time they’ve missed each other before this seems ridiculous in comparison. Reuniting feels electric. Phil never wants to miss Dan like that again no matter how good this feels.

Every worry Phil has had during their time apart is still present. He can’t tuck them away. When he can feel them in the back of his mind, even when they’re like this, he knows they’re real and not just anxious. 

They have sex, they stay in each other’s spaces, and Dan’s parents don’t bother them for not coming out from Dan’s room for several hours. It’s perfect.

“This,” Dan murmurs sleepily as they cuddle, “this is exactly what I want all the time.”

Dan’s chest is practically glued to Phil’s back, still peppering kisses on his shoulder. Phil feels a sting in his chest, one that shouldn’t be prompted by something that makes him this happy. Phil turns his head towards Dan and watches those deep brown eyes glisten.

Phil decides right then and there that there is a conversation ahead of them that is worth having. He can’t predict what it will turn into. Whether it’s about Phil’s own insecurities, and how he feels like he can’t live up to the image Dan has of him in his mind, or whether it’s about Dan’s need to paint the future in a colour that doesn’t exist. Perhaps the outcome will be neither. Perhaps it will be both.

When Phil looks into Dan’s eyes, he can’t be scared. He can’t be scared of someone who loves him this much, someone who looks at him like that. Phil gets one hand on the back of Dan’s head and pushes their lips together.

They won’t talk about it now, but they’ll talk about it at some point. That assurance makes Phil’s insides settle comfortably. 

He lets himself enjoy not knowing what’s to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Land of Canaan" by the Indigo Girls  
> Beta reader: jestbee (ty <33)
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please like/reblog on [tumblr](https://intoapuddle.tumblr.com/post/183846750413/same-sky-rated-teen-59k-words-danphil-tags) if you enjoyed it!


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